Los Angeles daily herald., 1887-01-23


helplessly ignorant as she looked up a.
her wise lover, and loved him the more
for mans superior wisdom, i've should
all like not to believe in the omen; but
what could have knocked the mirror
down!"
It was indeed puzzling. The nails
that had held that mirror were as long
as mans hand. They had been bur.
led in the wall like shafts of iron, and
out of the wall they had dragged them
selves, after being for fifty years SAFE
and firm. Bertha had been In the
drawing.room singing Gounod's "Sera'
made" with her fiance leaning against
the piano watching tie light from the
candles making halo about her iaii
hair, and the old Baron was dozlng III
his chair with the dog at his feet, when
all at once. with no hand near II, the
great mirror had dragged its nails out
of the Opposite wall and crashed down
unon the floor. The dog had howled
and bark ed, the servants had rushed in.
and in the midst of the confusion the
old mans voice had said with a trem-
BILE:
my hour has Gomez"
His strength had failed; he had been
confined to his room; he was dying.
When Ludwig and Bertha walked
along the terrace they hushed their
steps near those open windows further
on than the old drawiugroom.
"He is awake again" said Ludwig
looking into the curtained gloom. Go
to him, Bertha, if you like, and I can
have a smoke in the garden. You
might ask him about the will"
"But / don't ant him to die, Lud.
wig;., ,...,- .-.,
things they have taught you? He
won't die moment sooner because he
makes will. 1t is the right thing to
do"
Whatever Ludwig said was right,
supremely right always to the lonely,
alf.taught girl; so, as she sat beside
the death bed that evening, she tenderly
and gently coaxed the old man to have
his last wishes written down. Ludwig
was called in from the garden, where
his cigar had been glimmering under
the Lindens, and they sent for the vii
lage notary and the butler was the
witness.
It was well the will was made that
night. The old Baron was dead before
morning.
Then how the idlers at the "Golder
Dragon" talked. and how all the villa
gers whispered and shuddered. Well
a few months after Ludwig Schmidt
owned the castle and Bertha was his
wife, and it was to be hoped nothing
more would jump down from the walli
to give mortals warning.
Ill.
The gloomy Fritz Hartmann was
more gloomy than ever. Martha swep,
the cottage and played with the chil1
but he grumbled at his poverty, and the
child shrunk from his black looks. Ht
was at the old notary's house every
night now.
"Are you selling him carving, Fritz 2
said Martha. "Why, we shall be rich!
81 am doing some carving there, a
the house, of aanight. We may be rict
If we are it is only my just right, and
thanks to nobody"
This was strange way of talking OF
wood. carving. Martha wondered and
puzzled while she was taking off bright
haired Gretchen's strong little shoes and
putting her to bed. Well, after all, il
was the just right of a workingman te
get the value of his work; perhaps thai
was what Fritz meant. But Fritz mus
be making a great deal of money now
Why he had gone up to the castle in
the middle of the day to mend brok ell
part of the Swiss clock-case.
When Fritz Hartmann reached the
noiary's house he forgot that there was
any such thing as carving in the world
unless it be carving out fortune. Yet
there was some carving to be done, ane
he might be rich. The old notary anG
Hartmann walked in the garden by the
colored spires Of the Hollyhock flowers
They smoked and talked of the time Of
Hartmann's father. and how the ole
notary knew him we'll, and how there
had been quarrel.
mo one in the village knows?
asked the old lawyer, keenly.
mo one--I am a good jailor to keeI
secrets fast"
"But it is time,s said the notary
"Your case is safe. The old Baron wal
almost dead was call in to make the
will by the man to whom the property
was willed. His defense would no
have leg to stand on"
It was very strange thing that while
those two men were talking by the holly
hooks, considering the future lawsui
which was to make the Schwartzberi
Castle change owners, at the castl
ithelf the evil omen came again. In tn
old tapestried drawing.room younI
Schmidt was telling his tale, leaning
over the back OF his little wife's chair
after a days shooting. On the wal
opposite to the windows there was onl
the softly shaded tapestry; but at on
end of the room there was the portrai
of Bertha, in white and pearls, as
bride; it had been hung there instead c
the broken mirror.
All at once the portrait dragged tn
long nails from the wall and fell fac
downward on the polished floor.
Even Ludwig Schmidt. man as h
was, turned pale, and stood unable t
stir in the dead silence after the crasf
Then, seeing his young wife's hea
sink forward, he turned to her in a pani
Was she already dead? No, it was onl
faint. The faint passed off and th
servants gathered round her, where sh
lay in the cool air on the terrace. HI
eyes sought her husbands face, an
the only words she spoke were, Il al
to die"
Now, to dead certainty--and a vel
dead certainty indeed-Bertha woul
die if she sunk as she was sinking du
ing the month or two that followt
the falling of the great picture. A
the neighborhood had the tale; tt
"Golden Dragon" had sent it reund-
the bride at the castle was wastil
away and dying. The doctors found l
disease, but she was fading as flow
fades whose life is done.
The Schwartzberg case began to
the papers of Geneva. Two brothe
had quarreled long ago, and the young
of the two had incurred his father